OK. I admit it. I could be spit on for being a politically incorrect California placer gold miner. During the last time the price of gold exploded, in the late 1970’s, I and two geologist student friends became outcasts of Poker Flat. We made, as the saying goes, “wages,” but our backbreaking efforts did not make us rich, overnight. I thought the advantage of being able to horse pack a gasoline powered Keene surface dredge into “mother lode” country, would be a huge advantage. It turned out that gold is where you find it, and “house hungry” wives will play when hubby is away. (Editors note: We offer the book Placer Examination Principals and Practice a rare field guide book loaded with tips and how-tos to help you go find gold. Click here to get yours.)

What I did acquire is an understanding of Californian history not really shared by movies stars in Los Angeles who feel they are so-o-o-o-o intelligent to fill their Beverly Hills swimming pools by draining the Owens Valley dry, no matter the cost to the wildlife, and Native Americans. After all the only Hollywood movie that has come close to getting the history of the Golden West right, was, Paint Your Wagon, featuring the vocal talents of Lee Marvin, and Clint Eastwood. (Clap,clap,clap!)

Here is why I think visiting the so called mother lode is worth the cost of a few gallons of gasoline. Witness rounded, tumbled, river rocks of the prehistoric Great American River that flowed down from Oregon (the actual Mother Lode), on top of present day mountains. Travel the “Historic” Highway 49 to learn that “Miners Law,” wasn’t about six-gun justice, but ordinary people, authorized by a Congress that did not understand what was happening, delegating law and order to Mining Districts. Read Brett Heart “vigilante community” to understand the wisdom of what consider a “rabble” to self regulate themselves. Guess what, us “miners” even were concerned with ecological matters as foreign corporations coming in to destroy, through their hydraulic five mile long sluice boxes, the livelihood of miners who had left the family behind to make enough to pay off the mortgage. The stampeders, who paid great prices crossing the plains, did such a job that Congress came along in 1872 to adopt some of the better citizen input into the only “people’s law” in effect today — the Mining Law of 1872.

Sorry, all of my readers from Europe, that you have to be a U.S. Citizen to stake an 1872 mining claim, but there are places where you actually can experience panning gold, to make into jewelry so to keep the little lady happy. If any of my www.WesternMiner.com friends want us to list, “Tourist Gold Mining Opportunities,” below, for free, let us know.

I will be putting up “sharing” video footage of of “how to” pan, but for now let me suggest where to look for what even miners called “filthy lucre,” as it has been so corrupting of civilized values. First off, I love Placerville as the birthplace of the Hangtown Fry (the to most expensive items of a goldrush menu — canned oysters and eggs) but past the gift shops lays a Mark Twain sort of adventure.

My particular favorite at the moment (which will be featured as a video article soon) is Weaverville. After visiting the Taosist Chinese church, I like visiting the junior high football field where the Hong Kong Tong, and the Canton Tong, held a ritual battle over some long last insult. Know that the Chinese were very respected as miners for making 5¢ Gulch pay, but this did not preceded European, and Chilean, miners from setting up bleachers on the sidelines, and betting pools as who would win. After one ritualistic looser had been killed, apparently the whole town held a wake —which must have been the greatest “block” party ever held.

Do I wish I had painted my wagon, come along, to have been there —you bet. Fortunately, today, if you avoid all the cheap made in Thailand trinkets, you too can hear the tinkling of a honytonk piano, while eating some of the best Chinese food West of Hawaii.

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